by L.J. McLeod
Dark. Cold. Her breath comes in shallow gasps. The air tastes stale. A hint of rot tickles at her nose. There is no movement, everything is still. She closes her eyes and opens them again. There is no change in the infinite blackness. Her hands are trapped, her feet bound tight. The feel of walls presses in all around her. With an effort she pulls herself back, away from the vision she has seen in her crystal ball. She looks across the table at the eager, young tourist. He leans forward expectantly.
“So, what do you see in my future?”
L.J. McLeod lives in Queensland, Australia. She works in Pathology and writes in her spare time. She has been published in several anthologies and has been nominated twice for the Aurealis Award. In her spare time she enjoys diving, reading and travelling.